


Troubled Child

by WarlockWriter



Category: Jericho (US 2006), The Evil Gene (2015)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Human Trafficking, M/M, Past Sexual Abuse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-25
Updated: 2020-06-30
Packaged: 2021-03-01 05:01:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,263
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23319532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WarlockWriter/pseuds/WarlockWriter
Summary: Jimmy calls Bill out in the middle of the night to yet another truck full of trafficked Omegas. But one Omega is unusual and may be a weapon aimed straight at Bill. And Jericho.
Relationships: Bill Koehler/Griff Krenshaw
Comments: 20
Kudos: 10
Collections: Rich A/B/O 2020 Collection, Speight Bingo





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to Datajana for the beta read!
> 
> Will hopefully (eventually) fill the Lookalike Lovers square for the Speight Bingo. (Assuming everyone cooperates.)
> 
> Part of the Rich ABO 2020 Event. Excited to be a part of it!

Bill groaned as his phone rang. He’d been out late supervising a drug bust, and he’d just gotten to bed. However, it was Jimmy’s ring tone, and he knew his former partner would never call so late if it wasn’t important.

“This better be good, Jimmy.”

“It is, Bill.” He sounded…shaken?

Bill was already in motion, reaching for the uniform trousers he’d dropped on the floor in his exhaustion earlier. “What’s going on?”

“We just took down an Omega trafficker, but that’s not what you need to see. Just get out here. I don’t think I can describe it.”

What the fuck? Bill tried to think of the last time he’d heard Jimmy be at a loss for words. After the bombs maybe? When they’d been beaten and tied up in their own patrol car? And, damn. Another trafficker? They’d gone underground for years after the September bombs, but now they were back. And Jericho was smack in the middle of one of their routes.

Bill really didn’t want to see another truck filled with Omegas crammed into tiny cages. The smell usually threatened to knock him out. “All right, Jimmy. Usual spot on the highway?”

“Yeah. We lucked out on this one. Busted taillight. Dean’s first bust. Didn’t have any idea what he had until he pulled him over. Lucky he wasn’t riding alone. Might have been ugly if he had been.”

Dean Williams was their newest deputy, and Bill had really liked him at the interview. He seemed a solid sort of Beta who could keep his head when needed.

He had to put down the phone to get his shirt on. He wasn’t awake enough yet to make it work with just one hand. But he could still hear Jimmy. “Just a mile out of town.”

Bill picked the phone back up. “Okay. I’m dressed. I’ll be there in ten minutes.”

“We’ll be here.” Jimmy’s voice had steadied as he spoke. “Just getting the Omegas out of the cages. Ambulances and the bus are on the way.”

There had been enough traffickers coming through Jericho in the last year that they had a system in place. There were usually too many Omegas to fit in the five county ambulances, so Bill had arranged to use one of the school buses to transport the overflow. It was only a forty-minute drive to Goodland, the nearest town with a proper hospital, and the bus was good enough for the less extreme cases. There were usually enough of those in each shipment to make it all work.

“You’ve given Goodland a heads up that there’s incoming?”

“Yep.”

Jimmy was as solid as ever, even with whatever had shaken him up. “On my way.”

He decided to skip the tie, considering the hour. He was Sheriff, and yes, he needed to set a good example, but it was also three in the fucking morning, and he was tired. He did grab his jacket on the way out of his apartment. Temperatures had been unseasonably chilly for early September. Weather patterns had been weird in the decade since the bombs. The weather service insisted there was no connection, but Bill still didn’t buy it.

He ran to his car and decided it was worth running code to get there faster. If something had Jimmy spooked then Bill didn’t want to mess around, even if it sounded as if there was no immediate crisis.

He found the site easily enough. Five ambulances with their blinking lights surrounding a tractor-trailer truck were hard to miss. The bus was just pulling up, its yellow bulk an incongruous sight at the scene. Bill winced when he saw the size of the truck. Most traffickers crammed twenty or so cages in those. That was a lot of scared, traumatized Omegas for them to deal with.

He could smell them before he got out of his car, and he had to take a moment to gather himself. Shit, urine and unwashed bodies warred with the scent of terrified Omegas. Every protective Alpha instinct in Bill surged to the fore, but he had to keep them under control. He was here in his role as law enforcement, and he couldn’t save everyone.

Finally, he climbed out of his car. Jimmy was already striding over to meet him. Bill knew his former partner’s Alpha instincts were going overtime too. They’d sat around over plenty of beers and bemoaned the return of trafficking. And the attitude that led to a certain type of Alpha who wanted to abuse Omegas instead of mate them legally. “But that gives them protection,” Jimmy had said. “And hell, why would they need that?” He’d rolled his eyes as he’d said it. Because, apparently, even with all the advancements humanity had made, the desire for some Alphas to beat the shit out of Omegas hadn’t evolved out of them.

Jimmy and his mate, Margaret, had one of the best relationships Bill had ever seen. Probably why he’d never gotten around to looking. He didn’t see any point in mating someone who didn’t fit him as well as Margaret fit Jimmy.

“So what do I need to see?” Bill asked as Jimmy approached.

“Over here. We’re having a hard time getting one of them out of his cage.”

Bill followed the deputy. “Why? Most of the time they’re happy to get out. Stiff and hurting, but grateful.”

“I think this one’s had a rougher time than most. And…well, you’ll understand why I called you when you see him.”

Jimmy led him to the truck and hauled himself up, getting out his flashlight as soon as he was in the trailer. Bill followed, noticing that all the cages had been removed except for the one. The stench in here was overwhelming, but the scent of terrified Omega was stronger than any of the other odors, and Bill knew the strongest smell of terror was roiling off the man in the cage.

Jimmy positioned the beam of his flashlight to illuminate the cage while being considerate and not shining the light on the Omega in the cage, who was cowering against the bars, pressed as far from the open entrance as possible. Bill saw what Jimmy had been referring to. The man didn’t look as if he was intending to come out, ever.

He moved his head just a little, and Bill could see his face. Now he understood why Jimmy had called him out in the middle of the night. The Omega had bruises, visible even through the several days worth of scruff. However, even the bruises and ragged beard couldn’t hide the line of his jaw or other facial features, which matched Bill’s exactly.

“Shit, Jimmy! He looks exactly like me.”

The Omega made a whimpering noise, probably at Bill’s tone of voice, and cowered even tighter against the bars, covering his face with his hands and arms. His body shook with the force of his shivering. Bill winced when he noticed how dirty and ragged his clothes were.

“See why I wanted you to come see him for yourself?”

“Yeah,” Bill said as he walked closer to the cage. As he approached, he had no doubt. The terrified scent definitely belonged to this one. He couldn’t help feeling a connection to this battered, scared Omega. Which was a bad idea because there were protocols to be followed in these cases. Get them to a hospital and then to a half-way house where they could receive therapy and aid to get them on their feet and back into society.

Whereupon at least half of them usually ended up trafficked again. It was a terrible system, but Bill hadn’t written the laws and regulations. He was just expected to follow them. Even when he hated it.

Kneeling down by the door to the cage, which was open, he reached in. “Hey, buddy. Come on. We need to get you out of there. You’re safe now. We’ll get you to a hospital and get you checked out.”

He knew what they’d find. Malnutrition, evidence of repeated rape, half-healed wounds and probably hooked on drugs. At least this bunch wasn’t still pumped full of stuff to keep them in a permanent state of heat. Their second bust had been like that. There were three Alphas in the Jericho Sheriff’s department, and none of them, including Bill, had been able to get close to that truck. The department Betas had been required to process them.

The Omega shook his head and continued cowering against the bars of the cage.

“That’s what he’s done for all of us,” Jimmy said. “Not even Stefan could get him to come out.”

Stefan was an Omega paramedic, and he had a particular way with victims of trafficking. He could almost always get them calmed down enough for a quick exam before putting them in the ambulance or on the bus.

Bill considered. He was reasonably certain he could drag the Omega out of the cage if he had to, but he wanted to treat him with more dignity than that. But if the choice was to drag or leave him, he’d do what he had to. However, first he’d try compassion one more time. He reached out his hand, slowly, and talking gently. “I’m reaching toward you. I won’t touch you if you don’t want me to, but if you can take my hand, we can get you out of there. You look like you haven’t had a good meal, a bath or a warm bed in a while. All of those are waiting for you.”

The Omega shook his head again.

“I promise. No one will hurt you,” Bill continued. He wanted to say that no one would make him do anything he didn’t want, but he knew he’d not be able to keep that promise. Better to be as close to honest as possible at this point. He left his hand out, continuing to murmur reassurances.

Nothing. It wasn’t working.

“I don’t want to have to drag you out of there, buddy. But I will if I have to.” He allowed a tiny bit of Alpha command to creep into his voice. Hopefully not enough to freak him out, but Bill knew from dealing with these situations that most trafficked Omegas had been programmed to respond to it.

So of course it didn’t work.

“I’m not sure what to tell you, Bill. Looks like you’ve done everything you can. Want me to help you drag him out?”

Bill really didn’t want to do that, but he wasn’t seeing any other options at this point. He pulled his hand back and prepared to crawl into the noisome cage. “I guess we don’t have any choice.”

Jimmy propped the flashlight where it wouldn’t roll away but would provide them with light. He knelt down beside Bill, who crawled in, not that there was really enough room for two men in it, much less three—one of them a big guy. Only the Omega being pressed so far into the back allowed Bill to get his torso and shoulders into the cage.

Bill reached out to take hold of the man’s arms, but before he could, the Omega lifted his head, inhaled deeply and, surprising everyone, crawled forward into Bill’s arms, pressing his face into his chest.

Well, he hadn’t seen _that_ coming. But he put his arms around him and held the Omega for a moment, noting that his scent smoothed, with less acrid fear scent. However, his body still shook hard enough to cause Bill to feel like he was on a plane in bad turbulence. “Okay to come out now?” he finally asked.

There was a long pause before the Omega nodded. It was a tiny nod, but Bill could feel the movement against his chest. “All right. Good.” He tried to remove his arms, but the man didn’t let go. Bill stifled a sigh. “Okay. I’ll keep a hand on you, but we need to move out of here, and we can’t do that if you won’t release me.”

Another pause, but finally, the Omega loosened his hold on him, although he gripped Bill’s jacket. He could work with that, and he backed up, bringing the other man with him. Once they cleared the door of the cage, Bill put an arm under him and helped him to his feet. The Omega cried out as he straightened his legs, and Bill wondered how long he’d been in that cage.

Jimmy put an arm under his other side, and they supported him together. As they waited for him to get his feet under him, Bill noticed Jimmy testing the air.

“What?”

Jimmy shook his head. “That was weird.”

“What was weird?”

“You know how you smell like whiskey?” Jimmy asked.

Bill never really thought much about his personal scent since he couldn’t smell it. But he’d been told before that he smelled like whiskey and Rem oil. “Yeah. What of it?”

“Well, for just a second, I thought I caught a whiff of whiskey coming from him.” Jimmy motioned to the Omega with his chin. Not that the gesture was needed, there being only the three of them in the trailer.

“That’s not a usual Omega scent,” Bill said.

“I know. That’s why I said it was weird.”

The only situation Bill knew of where an Omega would take on an Alpha scent was during courting and mating. Which clearly wasn’t the case here.

Bill took a careful sniff, not wanting to be knocked flat with the miasma of odors in the truck. “I can’t smell it.”

“Like I said, it was just for a second. Maybe my imagination.”

Bill wondered. Jimmy’s sense of smell was usually excellent, much better than Bill’s or Marshall’s, the other department Alpha. “Maybe. Anyway, let’s get this guy out of here and into an ambulance.” Other than the difficulty standing, the Omega didn’t appear to have any injuries requiring emergency care, but Bill still wasn’t going to put him on the bus. He’d make sure he got the relative privacy of an ambulance. And a blanket. He was still shivering hard enough that his teeth rattled.

Jimmy got out of the truck first and helped Bill lower the Omega, who was still having trouble with balance and keeping his feet. Jimmy supported him while Bill jumped down. Then the two of them walked him to one of the ambulances, where Bill settled him on the tailgate. “I need a blanket, please.”

Stefan walked up, for which Bill was grateful. He’d be able to handle a skittish Omega. “Let me get one for you.” He addressed the Omega, giving him his full attention without trying to meet his lowered eyes. “Hey, buddy. Let’s get you to the hospital, all warmed up with some fluids in you. You look pretty dehydrated.”

Bill started to walk away, satisfied he was in good hands. Yes, it was weird that the man looked like him, but there was probably a logical explanation. Everyone had a twin somewhere, right?

Before he had gone more than few feet, there was a yell from behind him. Bill turned just in time to see the Omega fall flat on his face. Stefan was just turning from grabbing a blanket, his arm outstretched, obviously trying to catch him. To Bill’s horror, the Omega started crawling toward him, tears running down his face.

Bill turned back and took his arm, helping him back to his feet. “What?”

The Omega gripped Bill’s jacket so tight he wasn’t sure he’d be able to get him to let go without breaking his fingers. Bill walked him back to the ambulance and sat down with him. Without missing a beat, Stefan draped the blanket over the Omega’s shoulders.

“What’s wrong, buddy?” Bill asked. “You need to go to the hospital and get treatment.”

The Omega shook his head, and agitated pheromones filled the air around him. Bill shook his head in an attempt to clear his thoughts. At that moment, all he wanted to do was take him home and tuck him into bed. Which was definitely not what he was supposed to do.

“I think he wants to stay with you,” Stefan remarked calmly. “His scent’s making that pretty clear.”

The Omega slid one arm under Bill’s jacket and around his waist, holding on tightly.

“See what I mean?” Stefan said.

“But that’s not how this works,” Bill protested. “You know that as well as I do.”

The paramedic shrugged. “Short of sedating him or strapping him down, I’m not sure we can get him to go. Don’t tell me you can’t smell the determination on him.”

Bill sighed because, yes, he could. He finally came to a decision he knew he’d regret later. “Can you check him out really quickly right now? I’ll get Kenchy to look him over more thoroughly later.”

“Can do,” Stefan knelt beside them. “Let me take a quick look at you, buddy. Nothing too intrusive. Just check your pulse, temp and stuff like that?”

The Omega gripped Bill tighter.

“I’ll be here the whole time, promise,” Bill said.

He finally nodded.

“Need you to let go of the Sheriff for a minute, then,” Stefan said, his tone soothing.

Slowly, the Omega let go of Bill. Stefan did a quick but thorough exam and finally pronounced him, “Dehydrated and too thin as we’d expected. But otherwise not in bad shape. I can’t check out how…violated he’s been, and he needs blood work to see how many drugs he’s been pumped full of and to be certain he’s not harboring diseases, but I think those can both wait until tomorrow.”

Bill nodded in agreement. Not like he had intended to do anything other than feed the guy, get him cleaned up and hopefully settle him down for some sleep. “All right. Thanks.” He stood up and reached for the Omega’s hand, gripping it and pulling him up. He wished he knew the guy’s name. It seemed so impersonal to keep referring to him as “the Omega” in his mind.

He started for his car, followed by his new charge. Before he got there, Jimmy met them. “Bill, don’t tell me you’re doing what it looks like you’re doing.”

Bill opened the back door to his patrol car and helped the Omega inside. “Sorry, man, but I have to put you in the back.”

He got in, and Bill closed the door. He felt a small pain near his heart when the Omega curled up next to the door, legs drawn up and his arms tightly around them.

Bill turned to Jimmy. “I don’t know. What does it look like I’m doing?”

“Taking him home. Instead of sending him to Goodland like you’re supposed to. Like the law demands you do.”

Bill sighed. Jimmy was right. He knew he was. But he couldn’t do it. Was he responding to the Omega’s scent or appearance? He wasn’t sure. He just knew that sending him to Goodland wasn’t the right thing to do. “Then, yes, I’m doing what it looks like I’m doing,” he said finally.

“Bill, man. You know you’re breaking the law, right? The law you took an oath to uphold?”

“I know, Jimmy,” Bill said, hearing the strain in his voice but not able to help it. “I know. But…I can’t explain it. I just can’t.”

Jimmy mirrored his sigh. “All right, Bill. If you’re determined to do this.” He glanced through the window at the huddled Omega. “If I’m being honest, it doesn’t sit well with me either. Hasn’t with any of them, but particularly with this one.”

Bill was reminded again of why he loved Jimmy like the brother he’d never had. “Thanks, man.”

“Yeah. So get home. Don’t bother coming in tomorrow. I got it.”

Bill’s eyebrows went up. He hadn’t been expecting that.

“It’s late, Bill. You’re tired, and I know you’re not getting to sleep as soon as you get home. Plus, you’re going to take him to the clinic tomorrow, right?”

Jimmy knew him so well. “Yes to all of that.”

“Then I’ll cover the department. It’ll be like when you’re on vacation.”

“Except if you really need me, I’m in town.”

Jimmy looked again in the car. “I don’t think you’re going to be able to leave him but thank you for the offer. Marshall and I can handle it.” He paused and then added, “I’ll have Dean look over the manifest. They usually do have a list of names with them—why I never know—but they do, and I’ll see if I can’t have him figure out who our mystery Omega is. Maybe that’ll give us a better idea of how to proceed with him.”

Bill was grateful his former partner was with him on this. And was alert enough to be thinking two steps ahead of Bill, who was pretty much on “get home now.”

“Thank you, Jimmy. That’s a really good idea, and I appreciate it.”

Jimmy clapped him on the shoulder. “It’s what I’m here for. You two get home. I’ll call you mid-morning to check on you and let you know what we’ve found.”

Bill gave him a quick half-hug and climbed into his car. He checked on his charge, who was still curled up in a tight ball, although he sensed he was aware of his surroundings. Well, he’d have had to develop survival instincts. No telling how long he’d been a captive, but Bill assumed it had been months, if not longer.

He drove home, wondering exactly what he’d gotten himself into.


	2. Chapter 2

As soon as he got home, he ran into his first problem.

The Omega didn’t want to get out of the car. He remained curled into the same tight ball, no matter what Bill said. Finally, Bill crawled into the back seat of his own patrol car, took the Omega firmly by the hand and didn’t  _ quite _ drag him out. But it was close. Bill was tired and wanted to get back to his bed, and he knew he still had a lot to do before he could get there.

The Omega followed obediently enough once he was out of the car, and Bill led him upstairs. Opening the door to his small apartment, he took him inside.

“Bathroom’s over there,” he said, pointing. “There’s fresh towels under the sink, and I’ll get you some clean clothes.” Then he pointed to the couch. “I’ll make that up for you and heat up some soup. That should both get some food and liquid in you.” He tried to remember if he had any Gatorade in his fridge and thought maybe he did.

The Omega didn’t move. His eyes were downcast, and his body tense, as if he was prepared to either run or drop down and curl into a ball on the floor. And wasn’t sure which one to do first.

Bill swore to himself. Right. Too many options for someone who has had  _ no _ choice or agency for a long time. Just because he wanted to get to bed didn’t mean he could forgo his responsibilities. “Sorry. One thing at a time. Come on. Let’s get you cleaned up.”

He was still holding the Omega’s hand and led him to the bathroom. “You okay to undress yourself?” He was wearing a filthy, ragged t-shirt and sweats that were barely staying on. Bill was pretty sure he had no underwear either. Most of them didn’t when they were rescued.

The Omega stood for a moment before nodding and slowly pulling down the sweats. Bill averted his gaze and busied himself starting the water and making sure there was enough soap and shampoo. The old pipes in his apartment could be troublesome, and it took a deft hand to get the water to the right temperature.

By the time the water was adjusted and Bill turned around, the Omega was standing naked, eyes still fixed on the floor. Bill had known what to expect but the stark bruising on torso and legs was still painful to look at. He’d seen enough injuries to suspect a cracked rib from the way he was holding himself. “All right. Got the temperature just right. It should feel good. Want to get into the shower?”

Again, a pause while the other man obviously considered the question. But he finally nodded and stepped carefully into the shower. Bill pulled the curtain and started to leave. However, a question he’d been wanting to ask was on the tip of his tongue, and somehow it seemed easier to ask with a barrier, however flimsy, between them.

“What’s your name?”

He waited but there was no answer. It didn’t surprise him. So far the Omega had shown no signs of speaking. “All right. Well, maybe you’ll be comfortable telling me eventually. In the meantime, you shower and I’ll make up the couch and get some soup heated up.”

Still no response, although Bill could tell from the movements of his shadow behind the curtain that he was washing. Bill sighed, which he felt like he’d been doing too much since Jimmy had called him out, and left the bathroom.

The couch wasn’t a pullout, and it wasn’t particularly comfortable, but he knew it was better than sleeping on the floor of a cage. He got a couple of blankets and a pillow out of his closet and made up the couch as best he could. He also upped the temperature slightly. He doubted the Omega had the reserves to keep him warm.

Those tasks done, he checked the bathroom quickly. The water still flowed, and he could see movement. He dropped some clean clothes on the toilet seat—a sweatshirt and sweats and a pair of boxers. “I’ve left you some clothes. At least we know they’ll fit you.” No response, but Bill was used to that by now.

He wondered how he’d react when/if he did finally get a response?

By the time he’d warmed some soup on the stove, he heard movement behind him. Turning, he saw the Omega standing in the doorway to the kitchen. He shifted on his feet, obviously ready to retreat if needed.

Bill smiled at him. He was tired and not really feeling it, but it was good to see the Omega all cleaned up. His fear scent had subsided, and the shower had gotten rid of the other smells masking his personal scent. Bill couldn’t help himself and took a deep breath. Apple and new-mown grass. Solid Omega scents, and Bill realized they smelled really good.

Which he tried to ignore. Liking this Omega’s scent too much wasn’t appropriate. No matter what he was doing now, he needed to get him to the clinic in the morning, treated and then on his way. Bill couldn’t afford to get too attached.

“Hey,” he said, long practice in campaigning for his position allowing him to keep his real emotions off his face. “Good timing. The soup’s ready.” He motioned to the saucepan. “It’s not much. Just Campbell’s Chicken Noodle, but it should warm you and be easy on your system.” He poured half the soup in a bowl, figuring he could microwave the rest when they got up later in the morning.

“Come on. Let’s take this to the table.” The Omega moved aside to let him pass and followed, sitting where Bill indicated and taking the spoon he was offered. He looked at the spoon and the bowl for a long moment.

“It’s fine,” Bill said. “It’s really all yours. Go ahead and eat.”

Apparently, he’d needed explicit permission because as soon as Bill stopped speaking, the man started to eat. Even though he was thin and probably hadn’t had a proper meal in forever, he ate neatly and with care.

Bill watched him for a moment before going back into the kitchen and opening the fridge. As he’d thought, there were several bottles of Gatorade, and he took one out, opened it and placed it on the table. “Have some of that too. Stefan said you’re dehydrated, and that’ll help.”

It didn’t take him long to eat all the soup and drink most of the Gatorade. Bill decided to count that as a win and cleared the table. The Omega didn’t move, his gaze fixed on the table. When Bill had cleaned up, he asked, “Ready for bed?”

The other man got up and went, without being asked, to the couch and sat down.

Bill followed him. “I know it’s not the most comfortable thing ever, but I’m thinking it’s still better than a cage in a moving truck.” He motioned in the direction of his bedroom. “I’m right in there if you need something. See you in the morning.” He glanced out his window where false dawn was tinging the horizon a faint pink. “Well, later in the morning at least.”

The Omega lay down, pulling the blankets over him. Bill could see he was shivering, and the protective instincts in him wanted to bring the other man to his bed, but he was getting fairly good at overruling them by now, and he turned to go to his bedroom. Once there, he stripped down to shorts, crawled back under his own blankets and was asleep almost immediately.

***

A scream woke him, and, before he was consciously aware of what he was doing, Bill was out of bed, gun from his bedside table in his hand and running to the living room. His training stopped him before rushing into the other room, and he paused, listening.

Someone was moving on the couch—the worn springs had a distinctive creak-- and Bill’s brain caught up to his mad rush.

He walked into the living room at a more measured pace, holding his gun down by his side, finger off the trigger. As he’d thought, the Omega was sitting up on the couch. Early morning sunlight streaming through the window allowed him to see the other man’s wide, confused eyes.

He took a sideways step to put his gun down on the table where they’d sat last night. However, before he could say anything, to his horror, the Omega got off the couch, pulled down his clothes and knelt, facing away from him, ass raised in a perfect presentation position. There was just enough light for Bill to see the unmistakable signs of abuse, to both of his openings. His stomach lurched, but he managed to get it under control. He’d seen worse as part of his job.

However, in his shock, the first thing he said was, “Shit! No.” He realized as soon as the words were out of his mouth that it was the wrong thing to say.

The Omega whimpered and shook, obviously expecting punishment for something.

Bill knelt beside him, one hand on his back. “No. It’s okay. I don’t want you for that.”

That just increased his shivering.

Cursing inwardly, Bill added, “And I’m not saying I’m dissatisfied with you. I’m not going to punish you for anything.” He gently moved his hand to the Omega’s shoulder and guided him until he was sitting upright. “Nightmare?”

A quick nod.

Bill thought for a moment, knowing what he was going to do, knowing it was a bad idea and knowing he was going to do it anyway. All the reasons he’d come up with earlier were still valid. He was just choosing to ignore them. “Come on,” he finally said. “You’ll probably sleep better with me.”

The Omega glanced up at his eyes and then down again. His eyes, just as golden as Bill’s, were scared.

“No, I’m not asking for or demanding sex. When I say ‘sleep’ I mean just sleep.” He huffed out a breath. “But if you’re going to have nightmares, at least I won’t have to jump out of bed, grabbing my gun.” He gently took the Omega’s hand and pulled him to his feet. He’d half expected the man to resist, but he came calmly enough.

Once in the bedroom, Bill pointed to the other side of the bed from where he usually slept. “You’re fine there.” A joke about not stealing the covers flitted by, but he thought better of it.

The Omega sat down on the bed and waited.

Bill lay down on his side, being careful to leave plenty of room between them. “You’re fine. Go ahead and lie down. Hopefully we can both get some sleep.”

Naturally, it didn’t work out the way he’d hoped. Apparently, the Omega ended up in a nightmare every time he drifted off. They’d sleep for 45 minutes or so before he’d wake up screaming. Again.

But after two cycles of that, something happened. Bill awoke on his own, late morning sunlight streaming on his face. Something gripped his t-shirt, and he realized the Omega had crept closer and was now curled in a ball, facing Bill and holding on to his shirt as if it were a lifeline. His breathing was smooth and most of the muscles in his body were relaxed. His scent had evened out and was  _ almost _ contented Omega scent.

And it smelled so damn good. Even better than it had smelled after the shower. As Bill watched, the sleeping Omega took a deep breath and settled in closer to Bill. Which is when he figured out what must have happened.

Unlike many Alphas, Bill had never developed conscious control over his scent glands. It didn’t come naturally to him, and, as he’d never intended to mate, he’d never spent the time to learn. But apparently, as he’d slept, his body had responded to the presence of an unmated Omega, and he’d release soothing pheromones, and it had worked.

That wasn’t good. That meant he was getting too close to the Omega, and he knew he couldn’t afford that. On the other hand, he wasn’t sure he was able to resist his instincts at this point. He reached out cautiously and pulled the Omega close. He didn’t wake up, and Bill allowed himself a moment to scent him. Yes, apple and new-mown grass were now two of his favorite scents ever.

This wasn’t good. He told himself he should let go right now, but it had been so long since he’d had someone else in his bed, and he decided to indulge himself for a few minutes.

So of course, that’s when his phone rang.

The Omega woke with a start and was out of his arms and halfway across the room, huddled in a corner before Bill could do anything.

Bill paused before answering the phone, but the ringtone was the department, and he didn’t want to miss the call. With some regret, he picked up his phone and answered.

“Bill here.”

“Griff Krenshaw,” came the voice of Dean.

“What?”

“That’s the name of your mystery Omega,” Dean said, sounding smug.

Okay. Having a name was good. “Anything else about him?”

“Not much but what I do have is interesting.”

“What’s that?” Bill knew he had to ask. The young deputy liked to show off.

“He used to be FBI.”

Bill fell back against his headboard and couldn’t help glancing over at the Omega…no Griff. FBI? A chill went through him as he tried to work out the implications of that.

Since the end of the war, the FBI had changed from the organization it used to be. Just a couple of years after the war, the FBI had merged with the Department of Homeland Security, and the mission of the combined organization became…questionable to Bill. They spent little time pursuing the kinds of crime they used to. Omega trafficking was a classic example. Traffickers almost always crossed state lines and often involved kidnapping in some way, making them perfect for the FBI to investigate. But they just didn’t. When asked, the official line was that there wasn’t enough manpower.

And yet they had plenty of manpower to harass people who advocated for Omega rights or just about any kind of civil rights. Bill was conservative enough in his thinking to not automatically go along with everything that fell under the civil rights umbrella, but he didn’t think that everyone who disagreed with him deserved to be harassed.

Fortunately, Jericho had little to no contact with the revised agency, and Bill was just fine with that. But this? A former FBI agent Omega as a victim of trafficking? An Omega in the FBI was unusual enough, but how did he get here?

“Okay. That’s odd. Anything else you know about him?”

“Not yet. But if you wanted me to do some digging?”

That was the arrangement Bill had with his young deputy. Dean would use his skills to the benefit of the department, but not without permission. He considered, weighing the risks vs. the benefits.

Finally, he said, “Do it. Be careful, though. Something tells me there’s more to this than we’re seeing. I don’t want to attract the wrong sort of attention.”

“I’ll be careful, boss.”

Bill disconnected the call and watched Griff, who hadn’t budged from his huddle in the corner. What could have reduced an FBI agent to this state? Bill wasn’t under any illusions. Anyone could be broken, but someone had been determined with Griff.

What obligation did Bill have to him? More importantly, what obligation did Bill  _ want _ to have to him? He was pretty sure the answer to that question would get him in a lot of trouble.

However, he could put off answers to difficult questions for a little while longer. He got out of bed and walked to the corner where Griff huddled, eyes cast down, arms wrapped around his legs. Kneeling down, he put out a hand. “Griff? It’s nice to have something to call you now.”

Griff shook his head.

Bill was confused. “It’s not your name?” Dean was usually thorough, and Bill had no reason to doubt his research,

Griff shook his head again, and, to Bill’s surprise, spoke, almost too quietly to hear. “Not allowed.”

Bill sat back on his haunches. The Omega’s first words since he’d been rescued. Anger washed over him at the people who perpetrated such abuse on Omegas.

The Omega shivered and tightened his arms around himself, hiding his face against his knees.

_ Careful, Bill. When you get angry, your scent changes, and that’s not helping. _

He took a deep breath, and, once he had his emotions under control, he said, “It is your name, but you’re not allowed to use it?”

A tiny nod.

Okay. Bill could work with that. Even though he didn’t like what he was going to have to do. “Griff. I’m an Alpha. Not your Alpha, but  _ an _ Alpha. And I say you  _ are _ allowed to use your name.”

Griff raised his head slightly, just enough that Bill could see his eyes, which held a mixture of hope and questioning.

“Yes, I mean it. Your name is Griff. It would…please me if you answered to it.” He hated himself a bit for putting it that way, but he knew the Omega would respond to that phrasing.

Another tiny nod and a hint of a smile.

Bill gave him a full smile in return. He held out his hand. “Good. Now let’s get some breakfast.”

Griff uncurled enough to take Bill’s hand and allow himself to be pulled to his feet.

A small triumph, but Bill would take it.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: brief mentions of past rape/abuse

Bill fixed oatmeal, plus warmed up the rest of the soup and was pleased when Griff ate it all. He estimated he needed to put on at least ten pounds, although fifteen might be better. He handed him another Gatorade and Griff drank all of it.

Small progress.

He’d expected resistance around going to the clinic, and he wasn’t surprised when Griff tried to huddle in on himself again. But Bill was gentle and firm and finally got him to his personal truck. Taking him in the patrol car seemed unnecessarily demeaning.

This time he was able to have Griff in the front seat, and he was glad for the bench seat because the Omega plastered himself to his side and was quiet for the short trip from apartment to clinic.

They did get some odd looks when they walked in together—Bill had managed to get him to settle for holding hands instead of remaining joined at the hip. Gail Green, who still volunteered at the clinic two days a week, came around a corner and stopped as soon as she saw them.

“Bill? Is that…”

“Keep the questions to a minimum, please, Gail. Is Kenchy available?”

She nodded professionally and hustled them into an exam room. As soon as they were behind a door, she said, with a hiss, “Bill Koehler. That  _ is not _ one of the Omegas from last night!”

“It is, and you know it. Are you going to help us or lecture me?”

As soon as they’d entered the room, Griff had moved to put his arm around Bill’s waist and buried his head in Bill’s chest. “As you can see, he’s not in the best shape.”

“I can see that, Bill, but you know the law.”

“I do, Gail. However, don’t tell me you didn’t notice the resemblance right off?”

“Of course I did, but what does that have to do with anything?”

“He looks like he could be my brother. My twin even. You think I’m going to let them drag him off to a halfway house where most likely he’ll be on another truck like the one last night in a week? Or less?”

Bill hadn’t had a lot of time to think about the situation, but he’d had a few minutes during the drive over here. He supposed it wasn’t impossible that he had a lookalike. He figured probably most people did somewhere. But what were the odds that his “twin” would be here? And an Omega? And pretty much designed to appeal to an unmated Alpha like Bill?

Bill didn’t have a lot of education, but he had enjoyed mythology as a kid, and he knew the story of the Trojan Horse. He didn’t know the rules of the game or who was running it, but he was pretty sure he was being played.

Gail didn’t look happy about it, but she finally nodded. “All right. No. I don’t suppose you would. And if I’m being honest about it, I don’t even suppose you should.”

“Jimmy said much the same thing last night.”

“So what’s your plan,  _ Sheriff _ ?”

He didn’t miss the emphasis she gave his title.

“Get him checked out, first. Find out what we’re dealing with in terms of his health. Then I’ll figure out the next steps.”

She looked them both over, put her hands on her hips and took a deliberate deep breath. “Seems to me like you’re starting to like him a bit too much. And he’s already adopting overtones of your scent.”

Well, fuck. That was inconvenient. But Gail’s nose had a well-deserved reputation in Jericho, and he had no reason to doubt what she was smelling.

“All right. I’ll need to deal with that eventually. But the first step of the plan stands.”

She relaxed her rigid stance and gave him a small nod, not devoid of respect. “I always liked you, Bill and was glad you ran for the office.”

That was unexpected, and Bill felt himself flush at the approval. Then he firmly told himself to get himself under control. He was past forty and well beyond the age to need Gail Green’s approval.

“Well, let’s get started if we’re going to do this,” she said, her tone becoming professional. “What’s your friend’s name?”

“Griff Krenshaw.”

She nodded. “Well, Griff, can you hop up on the table for me so I can get your vitals?”

As he did when being asked to do something, Griff took a moment. Bill wondered if he wasn’t running requests through some sort of internal command structure imposed upon him by his training and conditioning. However, he finally removed his arm from around Bill’s waist and hopped up onto the table.

Gail quickly and efficiently took his vitals and started a chart for him. “Don’t suppose you’d like to give me your date of birth, son?”

As Bill had expected, Griff said nothing and just shook his head.

Gail nodded as if this didn’t surprise her. “Other than his name, I don’t suppose you know anything about him?”

Bill shook his head. “No, and, as you’ve noticed, he doesn’t talk.”

“Has he said anything since you took him from the truck?”

“Two words,” Bill said with a shrug.

She looked at Griff directly, but he wouldn’t meet her gaze. “So you  _ can _ speak but you won’t. All right, we’ll work with that.”

She made some more notes, managed to coax him off the table long enough to get his height and weight—same height as Bill and, as he’d suspected, about fifteen pounds lighter. She motioned him back onto the table, drew blood, without protest, which surprised Bill and then said, “Kenchy will be with you in a minute.”

Gail left, and Griff reached out a hand to Bill, who stood next to him and allowed the Omega to wrap his arm around his waist and lean his head on his shoulder. Bill tried not to think about how much he enjoyed the contact.

Kenchy came in a few minutes later, gave a pointed look at their embrace before shrugging and reading the chart. Bill felt his cheeks redden, but he didn’t pull away from Griff.

“So vitals aren’t bad,” Kenchy said. “He needs to put on some weight. Need to do a tox screen and see if he’s got any nasty bugs floating around his system.” He glanced again at them. “Think he’ll let me do a physical exam?”

Bill turned to Griff. “Okay with undressing and letting him examine you? I won’t leave.” Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Kenchy frown at that, but the doctor didn’t make an issue of it.

Again, there was a pause, but Griff finally nodded.

He tolerated the exam, which made Bill wince, especially since, in the harsh light of the clinic, his bruises and other injuries stood out starkly on his pale skin. He was pretty sure Griff hadn’t seen sunlight in a long time.

Kenchy was quick and professional but thorough. As Griff put his clothes back on, Kenchy made notes and finally said, “About what I’d expected. He’s been raped repeatedly and not allowed to heal. At least one cracked rib. The bruising is ugly but will heal. All in all, not the worst I’ve seen. But Gail says he doesn’t talk?”

Bill shook his head. “Just once.”

“Psychological torture and conditioning then. I’m guessing they had him long enough that they broke him down physically a while ago and most everything’s been head games after that.”

“Sounds about right.”

“What are your intentions, Bill? Because I know you know the law, but it also looks to me like you’re intending to break it.”

“Everyone keeps saying that.”

“Because everyone has eyes. And a nose.”

Bill nodded, and Griff pressed himself a bit closer. Bill watched Kenchy’s eyes follow the motion. The doctor was an Omega and newly mated, which meant he was probably sympathetic to both of them. “I haven’t exactly decided yet, but I’m under no illusions that his presence here is a coincidence. I need to figure out why, but it will be easier to do that if he’s here.”

“The fact that you’re getting very close has nothing to do with that?”

“I can’t deny it’s having an effect.”

Kenchy shrugged. “Can’t say I disagree with you. Your Mr. Krenshaw does seem tailor-made to appeal to you.”

“And to encourage me to ignore the trafficking regulations. Yeah, I know that.”

“As long as you’re going into this with your eyes open.”

“Both of them,” Bill said agreeably.

Kenchy reached into a drawer, sorted through the contents and finally pulled out several sample packs. “Well, then let’s get him healthier at least.” He handed over the samples, and Bill looked at them curiously. “The pills are a broad-spectrum antibiotic. Keep an eye out for a rash or other sign of allergies, since I don’t know what, if anything, he’s allergic to.” He raised a questioning eyebrow at Griff, who shook his head.

“Does that mean no allergies?”

A tiny nod.

“Ah, so you’ll communicate a little bit. Well, in that case, those should knock out most anything he’s likely to have picked up. The ointment is for the tearing. Apply twice a day. It’s both a topical antibiotic with a pain killer and some other stuff to aid healing.”

Bill hoped Griff would be able to apply it himself because he really didn’t want to get that intimate with him.  _ Not yet anyway _ a traitorous part of his brain added.

“He’s got a cracked rib. Advil for the pain. I’d prescribe something stronger, but I want to see what he’s got in his system before I add anything else.”

Bill nodded. He had plenty of generic Advil in his apartment. With the exception of Jimmy, everyone in his department was younger than he was, and he couldn’t help trying to keep up with them. Which led to sore muscles on a regular basis.

“I should have lab results by tomorrow. I’ll tell them to rush it. Then we’ll see what, if anything, we need to adjust.”

“All right,” Bill said, pocketing the samples 

“Get more food into him,” Kenchy added. “I want him to gain at least ten pounds. And more liquids. He’s still a bit dehydrated.”

“Working on it,” Bill said. “I’ve been pushing Gatorade on him.”

Kenchy nodded. “Yeah. Keep doing that. I’ll call you when I get the results, and, assuming he’s still here, I want to see him again in about a week.”

Bill gently tugged Griff off the table. “We can do that.” The Omega followed him obediently, and they left the clinic and drove back to Bill’s apartment.

Griff immediately went to the couch and lay down. Bill supposed it had been a tiring trip for him. “Before you crash, I want you to take your antibiotic and drink at least half a bottle of Gatorade.”

Griff sat up and did both of those things before lying back down. Bill pulled the blanket back over him and considered. What to do? If this were a normal day off, he’d work on his truck or do his shopping. But he didn’t want to leave Griff alone. 

Hoping the television wouldn’t bother his guest, Bill settled on the couch, positioning himself so his leg just touched Griff, who was curled into as tiny a ball as possible. He decided to finally watch  _ Justified. _ It had been on his watch list forever, and he’d always been too busy to settle down with it.

Halfway through the second episode—seriously were there any  _ smart _ criminals on this show?—his phone rang. Glancing over at Griff, who still appeared to be sacked out, Bill paused the TV and took the call.

“Hey, Bill.” It was Jimmy.

“Hey. Did Dean find anything?”

“Yeah. He did. And I don’t think you’re going to be happy about it.”

Bill looked again at Griff, who still appeared to be soundly asleep. Carefully standing up, he walked softly into his bedroom. “What do you have?”

“So, Dean told you about him being FBI?”

“Yes. And I wondered how he went from FBI to that.”

“Well, you need to go back farther. To what he was  _ before _ he became FBI.”

“Okay? What was he?”

“Army.”

A chill went through him. “USA or ASA?”

“USA,” Jimmy said, his tone reassuring. “He was in counter-terrorism before the war. Then when the war started, he ended up a Ranger. One of only five Omegas ever to be a Ranger.”

Bill’s eyebrows went up. An Omega in a combat role was unusual enough. But to be a Ranger? He stepped to the door to regard the sleeping man. There was some grit there. Which gave him a better idea what had been done to reduce him to this state. But all he said was, “That’s unusual. So how did he go from that to FBI?”

“About five years ago, after the FBI merged with DHS, apparently they decided they needed a PR win. So they recruited him. Decorated war hero Omega? Perfect to counter the negative press they were getting around the whole not doing enough about trafficking thing.”

Bill found himself nodding. “Makes sense. If they hire him, then obviously they aren’t anti-Omega.”

“Right. And one like him guaranteed lots of press coverage. When Dean found it, I went back through the news coverage. They made a big deal about it.”

Now that Bill thought about it, he remembered the story. He’d heard about it on the radio, which is why he’d never seen Griff’s picture. “So what happened? Was he a bad agent? Did he fuck up in some way?”

“The last one. By all accounts, he was an excellent agent. But then there was a bust. He got some bad intel and shot a civilian. By the way, that’s not what his official file says. It pillories the guy. But Dean dug farther and found the bad intel. Maybe he should have been more careful before he took the shot, but he had every reason to believe he was taking down a bad guy, according to what Dean found.”

“How long ago was this?”

“About six months. Give or take.”

Bill was still watching Griff, who was starting to shift in his sleep. Probably entering a nightmare. Six months? Yeah. That matched what Bill had guessed. Plenty of time to break him and turn him into this.

But why?

“You’re wondering why, right?” Jimmy asked.

“Of course.”

“Dean doesn’t know yet. And to find out, he thinks he’s going to have to dig deeper than he has until now. Wants to know if he has your blessing to do that?”

Bill considered. He could stop now and deal with what came. However, without more information, he was still guessing. He was becoming more convinced that Griff was aimed specifically at him.

But why?

That question answered it for him. “Tell him to go ahead. But to be careful. Something tells me this goes deeper than I really want to think about.”

“Same, partner.”

That told Bill how much Jimmy was affected by this. He didn’t usually slip up and call him “partner” anymore.

But Bill didn’t call him on it. “Keep me posted.”

“I will. How’s he doing?”

“Checked out about as we expected at the clinic. Has spoken exactly once. I wish he would speak more. He can probably fill in a few pieces for us.”

“Probably. We can hope he will soon.”

“Yeah.” Bill disconnected the call but didn’t go back to the living room immediately. He didn’t like being so far in the dark.

Griff stirred again, and Bill finally went to sit back down beside him. If his Alpha presence made him calmer, it might get him to speak. Or at least get some sleep.

A short night followed by a lot of thinking and worry was exhausting, and Bill fell asleep halfway through the third episode.


End file.
